


In Sickness

by Creed Cascade (creedcascade)



Category: Magnificent Seven (TV)
Genre: M/M, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-20
Updated: 2011-11-20
Packaged: 2017-10-26 07:32:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/280414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/creedcascade/pseuds/Creed%20Cascade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Vin gets sick and ain’t too happy about it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Sickness

Vin clutched the mare’s leg to his chest, getting comfort from its familiar closeness. He had been kidnapped and was being kept prisoner against his will. Vin was just surprised that his captor had let him keep his loaded weapon.

Vin felt his stomach roll again and lurched off the side of the bed, sawed off shot gun discarded in his wake. He grabbed the bucket and started to empty the sour contents of his stomach into the bucket. With his head hanging over the side of the bed, he thought his misery couldn’t get any worse. But his misery was just amped up when he was humiliated. He felt his captor hold back his hair as he continued to be sick.

“Let a man have some dignity,” Vin complained with a groan. He retched one more and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

“You can have all the dignity you want after you’re better,” Chris told him, still holding back Vin’s hair from getting soaked with puke.

“It’s just a hangover,” Vin grumbled at Chris and batted away the other man’s hand. “Nothin’ serious.”

“Hangovers don’t last three days. Not even one of my benders.” Chris was staring at him with an impassive face, but Vin could read the concern in his green eyes. “Nathan says this can be serious. One the kids in town almost died.”

Vin felt his stomach roll again and leaned over to wretch in the bucket again. Chris went back to holding his hair and Vin felt a hand massaging the back of his neck.

“Don’t need your pity,” Vin mumbled between another heave.

“I know,” Chris answered in that damn calm voice of his. His hand kept small motions on the back of Vin’s neck and shoulders.

Vin flopped back onto the bed. Chris’ bed, a voice reminded in the back of his foggy mind. It was a bed he found himself spending more and more time in. The sour taste in the back of his mouth made him feel sick again. “Fuckin’, cowboy. You musta drunk yourself stupid, ‘cause anyone with half a brain wouldn’t be around a sick man. Not that I’m sick, or anything.”

Closing his eyes, Vin vaguely wondered if Chris had been like this with his long dead wife and son. It was a thought he dared to never voice. Vin opened his eyes when he felt Chris touching his forehead, checking for fever once again. Chris had a glass of water in his free hand.

Vin shook his head. “Not drinkin’ nothin’. I’ll jus’ puke it back up.”

“Nathan said ya gotta.”

For a moment Vin thought Chris was going to lift the cup to his lip. Instead Chris pressed the cup into Vin’s hand, testing Vin’s grip. Even like this, Chris respected his independence.

“Go on.” Chris nodded his head and glared down at Vin.

Vin glared back, but it was the nasty taste in his mouth that drove him to take a sip of water. “I’m gettin’ outta here soon.”

“Sure.” Chris waited until Vin had drunk the entire class of water before he set it down on the floor. Vin had been saying the same thing for three days, even though they both knew Vin wasn’t capable of going anywhere. He watched as Chris grabbed the bucket and emptied the contents by throwing it out the front door. Chris put the bucket back down next to the bed and walked around to the other side.

Chris sat down on the edge of the narrow bed on the side that was bucket free. The rope springs creaked under his weight and he smacked the straw tick, sending a small cloud of dust into the air. “Shove over.”

Vin wanted to tell Chris to fuck off. Even after all this time, he found the idea of sharing a bed with the man unnerving. Not because of the act itself. He had shared a bed roll with a variety of men for warmth on a cold winter night and even to satisfy the even coldness of loneliness with a good tumble. But Chris wanted to sleep with him even when Vin was sure he looked like crap. Without a mirror, he couldn’t know for sure, but he felt like he had one boot in the grave.

“Take off your boots at least,” Vin grumbled and managed to find the strength to kick Chris in the shin.

Chris chuckled and toed off his boots. He leaned over Vin’s prone form and grabbed the mare’s leg. He leaned it against the side of the bed where Vin could quickly get to if he needed to. It was far enough for the bucket that when Vin was sure to dive for it again, he wouldn’t hit his head on the weapon. Chris settled back down on his back and then reached out for Vin, quickly but gently manovouring him to lie across his chest.

“I ain’t a goddamn woman,” Vin grumbled against Chris’ chest, but closed his eyes.

“Glad ya aren’t,” Chris answered. “Now go to sleep ya stubborn cuss.”

There was silent in the room for a few moments before Vin whispered, “I ain’t sick.”

“Sure ya aren’t. Healthy as a horse.” Chris leaned over and kissed his temple before starting to card his finger threw Vin’s hair. “A lame ol’ pony with a broken back ‘n’ nasty temper.”

“I hate you,” Vin whispered. There was no heat behind the words because both men knew what Vin was saying.

“You’re too much trouble sometimes.” Chris’ finger was tracing just behind Vin’s right ear now. “Shut up ‘n’ sleep before I shoot ya, Tanner.”

Vin smiled a little even though his head was pounding and he felt nauseous again. He knew exactly what Chris was telling him as well.

END.


End file.
